


we could still rule together

by metalhawk



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Conjunx Endura, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:29:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalhawk/pseuds/metalhawk
Summary: The Ore Fourteen keeps Metalhawk alive after Dark Cybertron. Starscream’s relationship with Metalhawk is finally given a chance to bloom.





	1. Chapter 1

Metalhawk floated in the neon green liquid, energon pumping directly to his spark chamber. He didn't look like he was even alive, his paint beginning to fade and his biolights no longer glowing. The Ore Fourteen had drained from his system, and there was virtually nothing left to keep him alive beside the whisps of life that still lingered.

 

After he'd sacrificed himself, Starscream had quietly (but urgently) called in his best medics to come in and take Metalhawk into safety.

 

He kept telling himself he didn’t have to do that. That it was only because he wanted to be hailed as savior for reviving Metalhawk. Definitely.

 

Starscream twirled the vial between his digits, the empty glass clacking off his servos. After a few moments, he opened up his spark chamber, filling the vial to the brim with innermost energon.

 

He sighed. Despite what people thought, Starscream's innermost energon was nearly depleted. He'd donated it many times, to Skywarp and Thundercracker and again to Wheeljack, who was in stasis in another corridor.

 

He closed the vial, and placed it on the table next to Metalhawk's container. Nobody else knew what he had done, so his was the only bottle on the table. 

 

Someone knocked at the door, most likely a medic, and Starscream gave them permission to enter.

 

"My lord," the doctor bowed, a white frame with orange highlights and chevron. "I have come to examine the patient."

 

"I'm not stopping you," Starscream rolled his optics. The medic scurried on, pulling up diagnostics and scribbling them into his datapad.

 

Starscream stood from his chair, uncrossing his legs and hovering over the doctor. He examined the screen, and he leaned back upon decoding the information.

 

"His spark is shrinking."

 

The medic whipped around to face him, surprised. Starscream just stared. He had been a scientist, after all. He understood these sorts of things. Then he responded, flustered. "Oh. Um. Yes, my lord. The Ore Fourteen's energy is _quite_ hard to match, and we're...we're still devising a foolproof plan."

 

"Well," Starscream said, his voice nearly a growl. "What plans do you have now?"

 

"The only one, sir, is from the medic First Aid on the Lost Light. He invented the method of a spark jumpstart, but we don't know who would be a willing participant—"

 

"And you didn't think to ask me?" Starscream said. "Why do you think I called you in? I want him alive. And I will personally see that he's just that."

 

"Oh," the medic says. "That's...that's great, Lord Starscream. I...I just need to call in a few professionals and they can start the procedure—" he pauses. "If...that's okay with you, of course."

 

"You have my permission," Starscream crosses his arms.

 

"Very well, my lord," the medic bows, before scurrying out of the room.

 

Starscream sighed, his digits grazing over the glass of the stasis cell. If this didn't work...he didn't know what he'd do. Letting his friend out of his life for the second time didn't sound so appealing.

 

Starscream didn't seem to think that the first time around.

 

Luckily, the doctors came back before Starscream could delve too deep into it. Fix-It, Flatline, and surprisingly, Jetfire, who was still recovering from his own wounds.

 

Jetfire himself was like an open wound to Starscream, sometimes. His Autobot badge, taking the place of his old Decepticon one still hurt him. They used to be lovers, before everything broke out and Jetfire betrayed him.

 

Of course, it hadn't been a long time since Jetfire and Starscream reunited. They just saw each other at the prison, before Megatron broke out and everything went to slag. At least things weren't as awkward as they would've been.

 

He retracted his chest paneling for the second time that day, and let them hook him up with wires and clamps, and did the same to Metalhawk.

 

"Are you ready, Starscream?" Jetfire asks, concern in his voice.

 

"Would I be doing this if I wasn't? You know me, Jetfire."

 

Jetfire nodded, and gave the okay to Flatline. The Decepticon medic pressed on the controls, and a surge of power was suddenly extracted from his spark and into Metalhawk's, a flow of electricity cursing down the line of wires. He saw Metalhawk's body jump with energy, briefly.

 

A second jump. A third. A fourth. A fifth.

 

Starscream vented heavily with exertion, his spark struggling to regain its strength. Jetfire encouraged him to sit down, but Starscream only shrugged him off, his optics focused on Metalhawk, his biolights glowing softly again and his paint returning to the normal yellow.

 

"Condition?" He asks, addressing Flatline, who was pouring over a datapad with Fix-It.

 

"Stable, my lord," he says. "He's in a coma, but he'll live."

 

"Good," Starscream says, sparing one more glance at the unconscious jet. He carelessly yanks out the wires from his spark and placed them on the table. "Unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to."

 

With that, he left.


	2. desperation

He found himself at Metalhawk's side again, watching his exposed spark beat slowly. He found it comforting, to just watch, a reassurance that his friend was still alive. And with everything that's been happening, with the cityspeaker, with Optimus, with the tensions between the Cybertronians and the Camiens, it was his only getaway.

 

He would never admit though. He'd barely admitted to himself.

 

"I heard talking helps," Starscream says, looking up at the flier as if he was going to respond. "And you know I'm good at that."

 

And he is. He talks, tells Metalhawk about everything that happened since the moment he killed him. Metalhawk doesn't move, doesn't respond, but Starscream doesn't care. It doesn't matter if he doesn't pay attention to it.

 

He ends at the very point they're currently at, and buries his faceplate in his servos. It hurt, telling Metalhawk about everything he's done, every corrupt actions he's taken to get this far, every berth he's found himself in just to get a little bit of leverage.

 

But it hurt _so well_.

 

"I know I never said this to you, when you came back to me, but I'm...I'm sorry. Seriously." Starscream sighs. “I used you. I used you to further my power and to get myself where I am. If I could go back, I probably  _would_ do it again. Because you know me. I’m selfishly vile.” He places his servo on the glass, searching Metalhawk for a sign. "I know you won't be able to forgive me, and I can't either. But..." he smiles, faintly. "Thanks for being there."

 

As he goes to walk away, he feels the press of Metalhawk's EM field against his, coming around and firmly wrapping around him, pushing into his armour.

 

Starscream leaves with a smile.

__________________

 

"We could still do this together, you know," he says. "We could rule together."

 

__________________

 

The months pass, Cybertron spikes with chaos every now and then and Starscream spends less and less time grieving around Metalhawk's stasis chamber. He doesn't have all the time in the world anymore, more and more people are coming back to Cybertron, Optimus Prime is out of control, and he has to make peace with the colonies.

 

It's a comforting thing, yes, to hang around, but Starscream no longer has that kind of time.

 

He doesn't know what he thought was going to happen. Well, scratch that, he imagined it perfectly. Starscream, building his palace on the graves of Optimus and Megatron, Circuit and other newscasters fawning over him every day, high grade engex delivered straight to his door. People answering his every whim, bowing to the Lord Starscream willingly.

 

But it's the exact opposite. Megatron is still alive, a damned Autobot. Optimus is a tyrant, in his optics, and every fragging mech is trying to kill him. He's in a different berth every night, seduction the only thing he can really do well anymore. Circuit cares more about Earth, nobody checks up on him anymore, and he finds himself on the verge of either a mental breakdown or a volatile explosion of anger everyday.

 

He pretends like this isn't weighing down on him.

 

At least Metalhawk is stable. _Stable_. Not getting any better, not getting any worse. Starscream tries not to think about that.

 

It still lingers, a dark thought, in the back of his mind, that Metalhawk won't ever wake up.

 

"Damn you, Metalhawk!" He nearly yells, pounding his fist against the thick glass. "Wake up already!"

 

He vents, hard, and rests his helm against the glass, looking at Metalhawk's peaceful and calm face, no different from when he was active.

 

"You're in there, somewhere, you fragger," Starscream grits his teeth. "Come on. _Please_.”

 

Metalhawk, like every day before, does not respond.


	3. Chapter 3

"Listen, I can't do anything about that at the moment," Starscream said, leaning back into his chair. "We don't have the resources, I don't have the time. Tough. Luck," he growled, just as another call cut through. He sighed, then silenced the enraged mech on the first line. "Hold."

He accepted the comm frequency that had interrupted, pressing it to his audial and giving an irritated "Yes?"

It was Flatline. "Metalhawk is coming back online, sir."

Starscream sat up immediately, bolting for the door. He dismissed Flatline and switched back to his other citizen. The mech continued raging, but Starscream just rolled his eyes and hung up.

He approached his balcony, and jetted off towards the med center.

__________________

Metalhawk was currently sitting on a berth, a mech handing him a towel to dry off all the fluids, and Flatline checking his vitals.

Starscream walked into the room, trying not to show his hesitation.

"Leave us." He muttered to the present mechs.

"But—" Flatline protested.

"Leave!" Starscream yelled, digits pointing back towards the door.

The door slid shut behind him, and Starscream could only stare at Metalhawk, green fluid dripping down his frame, running into transformation seams, his arm still missing, and his face calm even though his EM field buzzed with intense emotion and a million questions.

"I—" he stopped, looking down at the leader of Cybertron. "Hello, Starscream."

"Metalhawk," Starscream had trouble meeting his optics.

Metalhawk seemed breathless, confused. Starscream didn't blame him. "Why...why did you save me? After everything?"

"You're my friend," was the only excuse Starscream could find the words for.

"But that didn't stop you before," Metalhawk said, optics hurt at the memory of being blasted to bits.

"I know," Starscream puts his servos up. "I had a change of heart.”

"I don't know what to say to you, Starscream," Metalhawk just shakes his helm. "You _killed_ me."

"I know what to say to you, Metalhawk," Starscream says, knowing this won't end well for him but he just _can't stop_. "I may have killed you, but I brought you back. And you..." Starscream vents hard. "You brought Megatron back."

"I know, Starscream, and I'm sorry," Metalhawk says, voice and face filled with compassion. "But that wasn't me, Starscream. My body wasn't mine."

"You killed millions of my people." Starscream knew it was a bad argument. But he always had to pick a fight, didn't he?

"That was the first time I've taken lives in a millennia and I didn't even have any control!" He yells, the monitor he's still hooked up to going off the charts. "You, on the other hand, have been killing and killing throughout the entire war and you dare say that to me."

Starscream clenches his fist, teeth gritted. "I'm regretting my decision to save you, Metalhawk." He snatches his innermost energon off the table, and Metalhawk gapes at it. He just tosses it into his subspace, and storms out.

"Starscream, wait—" Metalhawk starts, but Starscream pretends not to hear him.

He just storms out, regret weighing down on him.  
________________

Starscream walks into his apartment, nearly ripping the door from its hinges as he does so. He's still angry, and he can't tell if he's more frustrated at Metalhawk or himself.

He didn't know why he said that. He nearly tore his trine apart on more than one occasion because of his damn mouth, and even though a good, hard, frag usually fixed it, he knew Metalhawk wouldn't be so easy to make up with.

Starscream didn't even know if they were still friends.

He yells out, fist digging into the metal wall. The metal dents and the paint cracks. The pictures on his wall flicker from the shock.  
Starscream heaves. He leans his helm against the wall, breathing hard and fast, fans spinning to cool down his angered frame.

Then he takes the high grade from the supply cabinet, some of the rough vodka that Elita One gifted to him when Carcer joined the Council of Worlds, and drank it down, slamming the bottle into the counter.

It shattered, Starscream groaned. He can't bring himself to clean it up.

He sighs, walking through his apartment, to his berthroom. One of his few pictures catches his optic on the way, him and Metalhawk, smiling together, Starscream's a notorious smirk and Metalhawk's a small half smile.

He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he missed that. The days when he could just be his mischievous self with his friend, albeit manipulatively trying to get the throne but he was far less stressed than he was at the moment.

What's done is done, he supposes. Him and Metalhawk...well, he doesn't know what will happen.

Starscream groans, switching on his holographic television to drown out his own thoughts. He puts his helm in his servos, sitting down on the berth and listening to Circuit ramble about how "Starscream may secretly be in courtship with Cityspeaker Windblade".

He's heard so many rumors...Starscream doesn't take it personally like he would've before. He lets them think what they want, he'll do something to prove them wrong sooner or later. He has far too many other things to worry about.

Metalhawk. Running Cybertron by himself.

Eventually Starscream lays back, pushing the cable into his recharge port and laying back, the soft glow of the television illuminating the room, the background noise almost incomprehensible to his audial. He just stares at the ceiling.

At one point he sleeps.


	4. the hard calls

Starscream's optics came online slowly, his processor buzzed from alcohol and almost no sleep, and as he sat up he heard the television, still running from last night. 

He went to turn it off, having to go polish his frame and push down some energon before he went anywhere. But just as his digits touched the buttons, he saw the long, thin, yellow frame that was Metalhawk's enter the screen. 

Cameras and microphones bombarded him, and Metalhawk slowly pushed them back and raised a hand to the newscasters.

"Metalhawk, the planet is wondering how you are still alive," Circuit asked, pushing the microphone back into his face. 

"Starscream has placed me into an intensive care center in Iacon," Metalhawk answered, calmly. "He is the only reason I am alive, without the Ore Fourteen in my system."

"You mean that Starscream hid you from us all this time?" Another reporter asked.

"Well, I have no knowledge of that, but yes, I suppose," Metalhawk nodded. 

Starscream growled, slamming the power button and storming out of his apartment without getting ready for the day. 

Maybe Starscream couldn't keep his mouth shut, but Metalhawk sure wasn't trying to keep anything a secret. 

___________________

"Metalhawk!" Starscream yelled, pushing through the crowd of reporters. "How lovely to see you out of berth!" He said, but Metalhawk could tell every word was spoken with anger. 

He wrapped an arm around the neutral's waist, trying to ignore the way his spark beat spiked at the intimacy. "I'm sorry, Circuit, but Metalhawk should be recovering."

Starscream started to drag Metalhawk away, pulling him flush to his frame, even though he was so much shorter than Metalhawk was. 

"Starscream," Metalhawk said, but doesn't resist. "What are you doing?!"

"Keeping you from exposing me," Starscream hissed through his teeth, pulling him into a desolate room, and locking the door behind him. 

"Why do you have so many secrets, then?" Metalhawk asked, crossing his arms, and Starscream noticed the still paint-devoid prosthetic he received. 

"Because leading Cybertron is not as easy as you think," Starscream said. "It's not all peace and love, Metalhawk."

"Why did you hide me from the people?" Metalhawk questioned. "What even is there to hide?"

"Obviously, a lot," Starscream hissed. "I didn't want them to ask about how you died the first time," he sighed, deciding to just be straight with Metalhawk. "Your death is the entire fragging reason I'm here right now."

"Then there is something wrong with your leadership, Starscream," Metalhawk says. "That is a corrupt relationship between the leader and the people, if it is based off a lie."

Starscream nearly explodes in rage. He steps closer to Metalhawk, their chests scraping together. "Don't you dare tell me how to lead! We could've ruled together, Metalhawk, and maybe this would've gone differently, but it didn’t! You don’t deserve to question my leadership. You don’t rule with me. No matter how much I wanted you to.”

Metalhawk leaned down. "And who stopped that from happening?"

Starscream stopped. He blamed Metalhawk, before, but then his friend had come to save him and the blame had all shifted to him. He, technically, was the reason they never could be co-rulers, like they had in his dreams. 

He just shook his helm. "You couldn't make the hard call. You couldn't let me die."

"Would you want me to?" Metalhawk asked, and there words stung both of them. Starscream never was empathic. He was arrogant, selfish. He spent a millennia trying to survive Megatron, and it only made him cruel and villainous. 

Metalhawk sighs. "We can still rule together, Starscream. It isn't too late."

The deep sincerity in Metalhawk's optics takes Starscream aback, he doesn't understand how this mech could still extend such an offer after every that's happened. 

But Starscream can't afford to have that. He can't afford to care about someone again, he can't afford to get close. 

"Maybe it isn't," he says. "But it might be too early."

Starscream walks out on Metalhawk for the second time.


End file.
